Heather scrolled through the list. They all matched the parameters she selected in the search options, but there were many other factors to be examined before choosing one.
Last week I spoke my second Toastmasters speech. It was project #2 about organizing. My speech was How to Write a 100 Word Story. As I appear to have a problem with putting my hands in my pockets while speaking, I write the following story as an example:
Edward Prairie Dog Hands
When talking to people, Edward habitually put his hands in and out of his pockets.
While visiting his forest-dwelling grandmother, who many of the cousins claimed could cast dark druid magic, she confronted his habit, telling him he had atrocious manners for a young boy. She warned him that something terrible would happen if he didn’t change his barbarous ways.
Sadly, Edward had trouble breaking the habit. One day he awoke to find his hands transmuted into wood. His habit remained until one day the friction of moving his hands into and out of his pockets set them aflame.
All I did aside from that in preparation was to make a simple outline on the areas I wanted to talk about. I did practice a few times, but I really needed to a few more times.
I did rewrite the story a few times as I practiced, realizing it wasn’t as good as it could be, and not a great example. After I finished it, I was much happier with the story and I could use the parts I rewrote as part of the speech. I did for get to mention how I changed the detail of the grandmother from simple being accused of casting dark magic into where she lived in a forest and cast druid magic. I did that so the fact Edward’s hands turning to wood would be less random and have foreshadowing.
Overall I did ok, but I botched the ending by adding some unplanned comments that trailed on and degraded the clear and strong ending. I’ll get better.
“Please, can I touch it, just once?”
Timmy’s father shook his head gravely.
“It must’nt ever be opened. To avoid temptation, you mustn’t touch it.”
Timmy kept staring.
“Pay it no mind. We must guard it, but we needn’t stare at it.”
His father slept. Timmy stared at it, then touched it.
Open me!
The voice was so beautiful he couldn’t resist it. He flipped the lid off of the Pandoringles cylinder. A hollow echo sounded as potato crisps of burdensome labor, ill, and disease escaped.
His father awoke.
“What have you done! Once you pop, the evil don’t stop!”